Chained to Heaven
by Youkai-Lordess
Summary: ONESHOT When the government finally catches him, Raphael feels he's going insane without Amy. He knows she'll go to heaven and he'll go to hell, but he can't help but hope... Warning: Character Death. there's more to it though!


The soft clinking of chains and metal, the almost silent hiss of cloth shifting over cloth as a shaking arm struggled to reach the small form a few feet away. Pale lips formed a grimace as the hand failed to grab the limp girl, and he tried again, lunging against restraints to get to his only reason for living. Chains creaked in defiance and held stubbornly to the metal pole they were bound to as their captive strained to reach the girl with no regard to his own well being as the metal was already cutting through fragile skin and drawing crimson blood. No matter, the man didn't care, blood that was his didn't matter, blood that was the girl's did.

Another valiant attempt, another failure and the man's eyes flashed ruby, a stark contrast from the usual icy blue. Silken blonde hair fell limply over a dirt-smudged face, hiding bruises and blood alike. Ripped clothing, showing a deeply lashed back, red welts showing clearly on pale skin and worse wounds seeping blood, but most dried black on the otherwise angelic creature.

No, this was no angel, not even close. Despite the fear widened blue eyes, ethereal pale skin, lean graceful body, the man was no more an angel than he was innocent. He did look it though, when he smiled, a naive barely out of college boy that had no understanding of the outside world.

But Raphael was no such person, pain, anger, fear, suffering, and loneliness were nothing new to him. Darkness wasn't either. So why did he feel so lost? It was merely a dungeon…just a dungeon, he just kept repeating that to himself as he tried to retrieve Amy from the bloodied floor. It was going to eat her up; the darkness was going to swallow her if he didn't save her!

With a last valiant lunge, the duelist managed to fist a hand in the girl's ragged clothing, which used to shine with satin glory provided by Raphael himself. Pulling her carefully to him, the chained blonde took the small body into his arms, gloved hands shaking uncontrollably as they held the child to his wounded chest. Amy's clothes irritated fresh wounds, the now rough material scraping into wide gashes and making Raphael bite back a small gasp of pain.

The redheaded girl was unusually cold, her small body even colder than that of Raphael's. The fencer almost panicked, but then he remembered, she hadn't moved for a few days now, he had known her condition, he just didn't want to admit it. So now, she was just a perfectly preserved body, a rotting corpse held in the remorseful arms of her guardian.

She was in a better place, for that he was happy, but half of his heart crumbled into dust. He had lost Amy forever; he knew that as well, where she went in death he would never go. She would go to a place filled with angels and singing, she would be treated well, and for that, he was happy too. He however, would go to a place filled with chains and chanting, screams and groans of the suffering that had committed wrong deeds like him.

Raphael blinked slowly; perhaps he was already there? Darkness all around him, chains binding him to both the wall and his mind, and what, a corpse slowly rotting in his arms. Yes, he was hell, he knew he was, he had been hell all his life, until…until Amy came. Then he had gained a glimpse of heaven, it's majestic greatness in the form of a small poverty stricken girl. And he had kept that little piece of heaven, picked her up out of the rain with his gloved hands and held her in his arms. She had not protested, but she had not smiled either. He had been wet, drenched to the bone with the clear rain that day, but she, she had been dry, he didn't know how, but she had, and he had felt guilty as he held her against his wet form.

Tried to put her down, he did, to say he was not worthy of such a gift, but the girl had latched onto his neck and he had swept her away to a hopefully better place.

Did everything to make her happy, to make her smile. They were the same, he knew, she knew as well, so they stayed together in their new home, but Amy had never smiled. Until that day. The cursed soldiers of the government, tracked him down, took Amy. He had fought, killed hundreds, maybe thousands, their corpses decorating the streets of the city. But he had tired, as he knew he would've, and he was captured.

Thrown into the cell alone, chained, bound, given food. He had thrown the bowls at the guards…received a beating for that. Kicked a prime minister in the face, received a whip lashing for that. Bit the Lord of the Lands on the hand, received rape for that.

But Amy, he didn't see Amy in any of those occurrences, only after the Lord of the Lands was done with him, kissed him on the lips, told him he was a sinful angel, and threw him back in his cell. Then there was Amy, blood seeping from her form, her still life-filled green eyes watching him as he stared at her wide eyed, seeming not to believe his sight.

Then the fencer had moved, trying desperately to reach her, but she was always out of his grasp, an inch away. She had smiled weakly then, a real, genuine smile, brought her own hand to her lips, kissed it, then reached out and pressed it against Raphael's paler, larger one. One last smile, and her sparkling eyes closed, she drew a final deep breath, never exhaled, and lay still in a huddle form of blood and cloth.

Raphael had froze then, ice blue eyes widened to the point that anyone who saw him would definitely say he had lost his mind, and maybe he had, staring at the limp figure, hand still outstretched, now shaking violently.

Brought his hand to his chest, stared at the palm, he could still feel the soft hand of Amy on it, along with her love that she had given to him.

And there he sat presently, vainly waiting for his foster daughter to exhale as he drifted off to what he knew would be a endless nightmare.

Dying of hearbreak? He almost laughed; maybe.

He expected to wake to darkness, but instead there was a blinding light, he screwed his eyes shut, as much as he knew he deserved it, he didn't want to face it. Too soon. He wanted—needed Amy.

A soft hand settled on his cheek, he started, looked up with the wide-eyed expression he had adopted in his captivity.

Sparkling green eyes met his own dull blue ones, a vibrant smile plastered on rosy lips. Red hair held up in two ponytails. …Feather like light extending from her back?

"A-Amy…" His voice managed, though a pathetic whisper. The girl wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He felt unworthy of her care. He was supposed to be in Hell, but…

Raphael blinked as two more sets of hands grabbed his arms and lifted his body from its stubborn crouch. He was still in the dungeon, saw the guards filing in, all with shocked expressions donning their faces. They weren't staring at him or the amazing creatures holding him though, they were staring at something directly behind them. Raphael strained to see, and what he did see shocked him as well. Huddled against the wall with a bloody load in his arms was him…or at least he thought it was him. …His dead corpse maybe, was smiling, not the maniacal smile he usually used, but a relaxed barely noticeable quirk of the lips that made the setting look calm and peaceful. Amy in his arms…was also smiling.

"W-what?" He managed to ask, and Angel Amy smiled again.

"You helped me, never asked for anything but companionship in return… I think that's deserving enough…" Her voice was different, seeming to be a chorus of different tones, but still so…Amy.

Raphael gave one last glance at his own corpse.

'_Pathetic'_ he thought at it, and he could've sworn he saw the smile turn into a knowing smirk.

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Mm, I had a lot of fun writing this, please review!


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